


Holding Tighter

by LoquitorLatinae



Series: Holding Our Own [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Ingrid is a good friend, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Rodrigue tries, They're all good friends, depictions of fluff, depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23207173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoquitorLatinae/pseuds/LoquitorLatinae
Summary: Felix and Sylvain may be in a committed relationship now, but it doesn't keep either of them from getting into trouble. When Sylvain is called out to patrol the Sealed Forest with Ingrid and flush out a group of bandits, he expects to be the one facing danger that day instead of Felix who stays behind. Who should have been safe with their friends in Garreg Mach.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Holding Our Own [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668460
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	Holding Tighter

**Author's Note:**

> In my first story (Holding Our Own), I beat up Sylvain, so I felt it was only fair to put Felix through the same thing. Except this one turned out to be more than twice as long but, *shrug*.

Felix blinked his eyes open as he felt the mattress beneath him shift, an arm coming around from behind him to wrap around his waist. Grunting, he glanced back over his shoulder to see a pair of warm, amber eyes looking back at him. “Hey.” 

Smiling at the rasped greeting, Sylvain smiled. “Hey.” He used his arm to gently turn Felix over onto his back and moved over him to press a kiss against his jawline and then several more down his neck. “Good morning.” 

It _was_ a good morning. It amazed Felix some days about how good so many of his mornings were now that he and Sylvain had finally admitted their feelings toward one another. Maybe they should’ve taken things slower, but Sylvain had moved into Felix’s room almost immediately and they’d been sharing a bed every night since. And it was…nice. More than nice. 

He came back to himself as Sylvain rolled his hips down, their naked bodies pressing together and pulling a moan from Felix that Sylvain quickly swallowed in a passionate kiss. They lazily rutted against each other for a few moments before Felix rolled them over so that he was hovering over Sylvain, his knees resting on either side of his waist and his hands planted on either side of his head, his hair falling loose around his shoulders. Sylvain grinned up at him and smoothed his hands up Felix’s thighs. They were both mostly aroused but Felix wasn’t sure if they had the time to take care of things properly. “Don’t you have patrol with Ingrid today?” 

Sylvain heaved a sigh, his hands straying to Felix’s inner thighs before sliding back down toward his knees. “Yeah…the reports of bandits are getting really bad these days. We’re going into the Sealed Forest to try and flush them out…But I don’t see why you can’t come along.” 

It was an old argument “Riding isn’t my strong suit. I’d only slow you two down on a horse and I’d never keep up on foot.” 

“I don’t see why you won’t let me train with you down at the stables. You like riding well enough in bed. _Ow!_ ” 

Felix pulled back the pillow he had smacked Sylvain with, a dark flush on his cheeks. “Shut up! Can’t you be serious for one minute?” 

Sylvain laughed and lurched up to wrap his arms around Felix and tackled him back to their bed, the pillow now trapped between them. “I wasn’t trying to be serious; I was trying to complain about how much I’m going to miss you today!” 

The air rushed from Felix’s lungs as Sylvain sprawled on top of him and he wiggled in Sylvain’s grip until he could breathe a bit easier. “You’re such a child…” 

Sylvain pouted down at him. “I’m three years older than you.” 

Felix smirked back, “That makes it particularly pathetic.” Despite his words, there was no heat to his voice and Sylvain’s pout gave way to another grin. 

“You’re lucky that I know when you say that what you’re _really_ saying is ‘I love you, Sylvain. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me!’” 

Felix rolled his eyes as Sylvain pitched his voice high to mimic him. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.” 

Sylvain’s grin widened and he pulled his hands free from around Felix only to pin Felix’s hands to the mattress on either side of his head. Felix flushed again but met his gaze steadily as Sylvain pressed their foreheads together. “Are you sure? I’m pretty good at guessing what you’re thinking these days.” 

Felix tried to maintain a cool, detached façade despite his blush. “Is that so?” 

“It is.” 

“What am I thinking now?” 

Sylvain tilted his head and pursed his lips. “You’re thinking…’Look at how gorgeous Sylvain is. Goddess, I wish I could just kiss him until I can’t breathe anymore…!’” 

“Lucky guess.” 

A smile blossomed on Sylvain’s face again and a second later they were back to kissing. Felix looped his arms up around Sylvain’s neck to pull him in closer and the older man grunted against his lips as Felix tugged him down. He practically collapsed on top of the other, but it was exactly what Felix wanted right now. They kissed until the need for a full breath of air became too great and Sylvain pulled away with one last nip to Felix’s bottom lip and a deep inhale. “Ah, shit. I really should get going. Otherwise Ingrid will hunt me down, and you’d probably help her.” 

Felix huffed out a breathy laugh. “Probably.” As much as he appreciated early morning sex, he knew that Sylvain was needed outside their now-shared bedroom. And that Sylvain needed all the encouragement get could get to actually leave. Sometimes Sylvain tried to put their relationship above his duty, which Felix wasn’t sure he should allow. Sometimes it was hard to remember that though.

As Sylvain clamored off of him and the bed, Felix rolled over and shamelessly watched as he walked naked across the room to collect his clothes from the wardrobe. Sylvain glanced back at him and raised a brow as he shimmied into a pair of breeches. “What do you have planned for today?” 

Tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind his ear, Felix shrugged. “I was going to head into town with Annette and Ashe. Annette asked if I could come to make sure they stay on task and I decided that if I didn’t, we wouldn’t see them for a week.” 

Sylvain laughed, the sound somewhat muffled as he pulled on his shirt. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” His head popped out from the top of the shirt and he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “And you always have been sweet on Annette.” 

“Jealous?” 

“Absolutely not. I think it’s cute. And I know you have a thing for redheads,” he winked. 

Felix rolled his eyes, though there was a smile on his face. When Sylvain finished dressing, he walked back over to the bed to steal one last quick kiss. Felix returned it, his expression growing more serious as they parted. “Be careful. Stay with Ingrid and keep each other safe.” 

“Will do. See you for dinner?” 

“I’ll wait so we can go together. Don’t be late.” 

“I’m sure I’ll be more than ready to head back.” Sylvain paused then ducked down to kiss his forehead. “I love you, Fe.” 

A blush returned to Felix’s cheeks and he shook his head. “I love you too, Syl. Now get out of here; you’re already late.” 

Felix was bored. He knew he would be though and tried not to let it turn to annoyance as he waited for Annette and Ashe to finish up. The two each had a shopping list as long as their arm and it felt like they visited every shop along the main market street in town by the time they were ready to head back to the monastery. Felix made himself useful by carrying a few of Annette’s bags. He was less worried about Ashe, even though the slighter man was weighed down by two of them on each arm, but Annette had a history of tripping when she tried to hold too many things at once. 

Their shopping had taken the better part of the day and dusk was settling in around them as they hiked back up the road to Garreg Mach, the stone walls and towers looming above them, casting a shadow so long it enveloped the road. But the weather was nice enough, birds singing in the trees that lined the path, and Felix’s thoughts were drifting back to Sylvain and Ingrid. He wasn’t truly worried about them—he wouldn’t have let them ride off by themselves if he was—but he wasn’t used to being separated from them while they were on a mission, even though it had happened before. 

Annette was humming lightly as they walked, a skip in her step as Felix and Ashe trailed a few steps behind. Despite Felix’s boredom, the wide smiles on Annette and Ashe’s faces were contagious and Felix felt the corners of his own lips curling up. Annette glanced back at him and her eyes sparkled happily when she saw his expression. “Thank you again for coming with us, Felix! I know you probably had other things to do, but you were a big help.”

Ashe laughed softly and nodded. “Annette and I probably would have spent another hour in the bookstore if you hadn’t been there to intervene.”

“Another hour? You probably would have stayed until nightfall.” Felix was pretty sure that Ashe was still partially disappointed that he hadn’t been able to spend all afternoon there, but he had let Felix drag him and Annette out so they could finish buying the rest of the items on their lists before the other stores closed. 

“We would have noticed the time before then. Well…maybe not.” Ashe grinned sheepishly. “Maybe…” He tilted his head up thoughtfully, the smile slipping from his lips as his unfinished sentence stretched between them. It took Felix a moment to realize that the other’s attention had shifted to something else entirely. Annette had too, and she glanced back over her shoulders as Ashe’s brow pinched up in concern. 

Nerves tingled up Felix’s spine. “What is it?”

“I just…” Ashe pressed his lips together and looked over at the trees flanking the left side of the road, “I thought I saw something just now.”

Felix’s eyes snapped over to the woods, the shadow of Garreg Mach darkening the green spaces between the branches. The birds. They’d stopped singing. 

There was a flash of silver and that was the only other warning they got before a throwing axe came flying out from behind a tree. Felix jerked back, his body moving on instinct, and the axe came so close that he could feel the wind from it against his cheek before embedding itself into a thick tree trunk on the other side of the road. Annette and Ashe shouted, the bags they were holding tumbling to the ground as Felix threw his arms out as if to hide the other two behind him, his whole body tensing as he heard the metallic ring of a sword being unsheathed a beat before a dozen, no, two dozen men emerged from the foliage. 

They looked haggard and hunted, a desperate gleam of empty stomachs and greed in their hollowed eyes, moving like a pack of wolves as they surrounded them. The men in the back were leading horses laden down with empty packs and dirty bed rolls messily tied to the saddles. They weren’t wearing any sort of insignias or badges, and the mis-matched collection of ratty clothes and armor confirmed that they were bandits rather than loyal to any nation or lord. They were running from something, but apparently not so quickly that they couldn’t break for what they assumed was an easy mark. Three unarmed youths with no guards in sight or shouting distance. 

Felix clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to take a step back, holding his ground as one of the bandits, the de facto leader, strutted forward, his sword held in an arrogantly relaxed hold. His cocky stance made anger burn hot in Felix’s chest but a soft touch on his arm—Annette, his mind supplied—kept him from saying or doing something he might regret. Instead, he stayed quiet and glared as the man’s pale gaze swept over them, assessing their clothes, the packages on the ground, the shine of their boots, in an instant. Felix knew what he was seeing. Wealth. Vulnerability. “Well, what do we have here, boys?” He drawled, tapping the tip of his sword against his steel-toed leather boots. 

“Three little piggies coming home from the market,” another mocked. Felix felt Annette and Ashe shift behind him, taking defensive positions as the bandits flanked them. Annette’s hand on Felix’s arm was shaking lightly before she seemed to steel herself and the tremors stopped. Felix didn’t look back to check on her, his gaze focused solely on the men in front of him. He couldn’t afford to let them out of his sight.

Chuckles rang out around them as the leader smirked. “That’s what it looks like to me. So, little piggies, do you have any goods to spare to some poor travelers?”

Realizing that he was waiting for an answer, like a cat toying with a mouse, Felix drew in a breath to keep himself calm. He couldn’t afford to incite anything here. He, Annette, and Ashe were all trained warriors in their own right—something the bandits likely didn’t realize—but they were unarmed and outnumbered. Annette had her magic, yes, and Felix might be able to hold his own in hand-to-hand combat against two or three, but not six or more at once, and Ashe, though their best archer, had no training in close combat other than what he might have learned on the streets in his youth. “Take the bags and go,” he snapped. They would be out some money, but nothing near worth dying for. 

The leader motioned with his head and suddenly two other men swept forward and snatched up their shopping bags from where they’d landed on the road. The bags were spirited to the back of their wolf pack where the two men began to tear into them, but the rest made no move to leave. Instead, their leader’s smirk widened. “I think you can spare more than that. Turn out your pockets and purses. Now.”

It stung Felix’s pride but, again, it was not worth dying over. Never breaking eye contact with the leader, Felix physically turned out his pockets and dropped the few coins he had there into the leader’s waiting palm. Annette and Ashe followed his lead, their pockets offering far fewer coins than Felix’s had. 

The bandit leader looked down at the coins in his hand and dropped them into a pouch out his side. “That’s hardly enough to feed my poor men. You rich pigs are always going on about how charitable you are, you wouldn’t mind giving more than that. Strip.”

“What?”

“Your clothes will be worth a few more coins, what doesn’t fit my men anyway. So strip.” The man had kept his tone light, but there was an underlying cruelty and he looked over to leer at Annette. She drew in a short breath behind him and Felix felt something snap inside him. He wouldn’t let this go any further.

“No.”

The growled word seemed to catch the head man off guard and he blinked, his eyes finally leaving Annette to come back to Felix. “What was that?” His words had lost its sickly sweet dulcet tone.

“I said ‘no.’ You have our goods and our money. Be satisfied with that and leave.”

“Who do you think you are, giving orders?”

His title burned hot on his tongue, but Felix swallowed it back. The small satisfaction he might get from telling them exactly who they were threatening didn’t outweigh the potential danger in it. House Fraldarius was well known but had its enemies. “It doesn’t matter who I am; I know who _you_ are.”

“If you knew who we are, you wouldn’t be talking to me like that. But being the generous man that I am, I’m willing to show you. Grab them!” 

His last words were directed at his men and they rushed forward, axes, swords, and daggers drawn. Felix didn’t hesitate and didn’t allow them the element of surprise. He had been wound so tight that he shot forward like a spring, sliding low and kicking one of the men’s shins so hard he heard a satisfying snap and a scream. As he rolled back up to his feet in time to dodge the swing of an axe, he felt a wave of heat behind him as Annette unleashed a fire ball at some of the men behind the first wave before ducking an attack of her own. He could hear the scramble of boots on dirt on his other side and knew it must be Ashe grappling with another bandit. The sound was alarmingly unsteady but a second later he heard a scraping noise and a cloud of dirt exploded in the air behind him, one of the bandits lurching back and clutching his eyes. Ashe was fighting dirty, literally. Good. Whatever kept him on his feet.

Felix’s focus snapped back to his own fight just in time and he feinted to the side before slamming his fist up into another’s gut, just below his rib cage to force the air from his lungs. A blade bit at his thigh and he hissed and shifted his weight as he bounced back as Annette continued to sling spells almost wildly around, the air around them growing thick with the scent of ozone and the feel of static. 

But there were more men, there always seemed to be more, and none of the blows Felix landed were fatal. If there had just been one or two, maybe he could’ve—but there were just too many, and he could tell the strength of Annette’s magic was fading as she quickly exhausted herself. His energy was fading too. 

Felix was unable to dodge quickly enough, and the flat side of an axe slammed into his side, the blow making lights flash in his eyes as he fell back against Annette who stumbled at the sudden impact. He reached back to steady her and felt the stick wet feel of blood on her arm—she’d taken a blow of her own—and finally chanced a glance back. Annette’s brow was covered in sweat as she panted for air. She was in bad shape. And Ashe—

Felix blinked over at where he had last heard Ashe scuffling not a second ago and his eyes widened as he saw Ashe, his arms wrenched back behind his back by a bulky man that towered over the other, a sword held tight to his throat. There were bloody patches on his pants and coat and a cut on his cheek, the red there and the dark of his freckles contrasted against his pale face. Ashe bit back a sound as the bandit holding him pulled the blade tighter against his skin, noticing that he had Felix and Annette’s attention. “Not another move, or I slice his throat open!” 

“Ashe…!” 

Felix motioned for Annette to quiet, trying to think. This was bad. This was very bad. He was so tired now, with various wounds and bruises burning against his skin, he couldn’t keep going for much longer. But what could they do? It was clear the bandits had moved past simply wanting their clothes; they wanted their blood now. He had to think his way out of this, but his mind was nothing but panicked white noise. It was taking nearly everything he had just to let that not show on his face. He couldn’t afford to show any more weakness than he was.

Swallowing, Felix moved so that Annette was one again behind him, somewhat protected from further harm as he slowly raised his hands. Surrendering as he waited for words he hoped would come to get them out of this alive. But talking had never been his strong suit. “Let him go. We’ll give you whatever you want just, let him go.” 

“We’re way past that now.” Their leader had reappeared center-front. There was a purpling bruise on his jaw that Felix viciously hoped made it painful to talk. “Instead of your clothes, we’re going to take him. I’m sure he’ll sell for more than a pile of bloody cloth.”

Felix’s hands clenched into fists at his side. “You won’t get more than two miles before—"

“—If you or your dogs come after us, we’ll kill him.” As if to prove his point, the leader shot a look over to the brute holding Ashe and with a dark smile he drew the blade two inches across his throat, Ashe biting back a cry as blood welled up beneath the sword. 

Felix’s pulse quickened. “Stop! Don’t hurt him!” If the man’s hand slipped even an inch, Ashe’s neck would be slashed open. 

A smile finally returned to the bandit leader’s face and the site of it made Felix’s skin crawl. He knew he had gained his advantage back. And now he truly had it. “You really care about this kid, don’t you? Would you look at that, a noble with a heart.” 

Felix felt Annette grab his sleeve. She was trusting him to fix this. But, he, he still didn’t have the words. If Sylvain were here, he’d know what to say to talk them out of this. Even Ingrid, or Mercedes. If Dimitri or Dedue had been here, the bandits would all be dead by now, weapons or no. “If you don’t release him, I will not be the only one who will see you all burn in the eternal flames before the night is out,” Felix growled. “The entire Kingdom of Faerghus will be baying at your heels.”

“Wait…” Felix blinked but when he looked over at the man who spoke, his expression did nothing to soothe him. Instead of mercy, there was a greedy look in the other man’s beady gaze, like a starving man who had just been presented with a feast, and his gaze was locked on Felix. “I recognize you. You’re Fraldarius’s brat, aren’t you?” 

He just gave too much away. Shit.

The bandit leader took in his expression then laughed. It was an evil sound. “New offer: you want to save this welp so badly, you can take his place. Come with us, and we’ll release your friend.” 

Ashe jerked forward, more blood trickling down his neck, “No, Felix—!” 

“—Fine.” Felix gently shook off Annette’s grip and straightened his shoulders. “Put your sword down.”

Felix wasn’t sure that they would keep their word but, with another nod from their leader, the man holding Ashe pulled his sword away from Ashe’s throat with a grunt of disappointment. He released his arms as well and Ashe stumbled forward. Felix moved forward to meet him but before he could, he felt a rough hand on his wrist, yanking him hard to his right just as the brute who’d been holding Ashe kicked the archer, the sole of his boot landing solidly in the center of his back and sending Ashe tumbling forward into Annette. 

An angry shout burst past Felix’s lips as he watched Annette jerk forward to catch Ashe, both of them landing hard on the packed dirt of the road. Cold rage gripped Felix and he tore himself free, fully intending to launch himself right back into a new fight, exhaustion forgotten. Forgotten, but still very much present, because he didn’t even sense someone moving behind him before he felt a sharp, heavy pain against the back of his skull and everything went black.

The sun was already dipping down toward the tree line when Sylvain finally gave in to the yearning that had steadily built in his chest. With darkness falling and a chill finally beginning to settle in between the joints of his armor, he wanted nothing more than a warm meal and then to cuddle up with Felix in bed as the other read one of those novels he pretended to hate so much. Ingrid had alternated between scouting ahead from the air on her pegasus and trotting alongside Sylvain’s warhorse, and right now she was doing the latter, riding beside him with her pegasus’s wings tucked against its back like an extra set of armor covering Ingrid’s legs. They’d been chatting about nothing, having run out of serious topics of conversation a few hours back, and as their talk hit a natural lull, Sylvain grinned over at her. “Hey, you wanna cut out a little early? I heard Dedue has cooking duty tonight, so you know it’s going to be good.” 

Ingrid blinked then rolled her eyes, though she looked amused all the same. “As if food is why you want to head back.” 

He couldn’t really argue about that. “But it might be a reason why _you_ want to head back…?” 

Ingrid met his gaze evenly and for a long moment she just stared, judgingly. Then she nodded. “Alright, let’s go.” 

Sylvain choked back a laugh. “What, really?” 

“Really. I know that look; you weren’t going to leave me alone until I agreed, and we’ve checked all the parts of the forest where bandits have been reportedly seen and haven’t found anything except for abandoned campsites. They were definitely here, but they’re gone now.” She paused then smiled. “…Besides, I _do_ want to get back before all the good food is gone.” 

“You’re the best.” 

“I know.”

A laugh did escape him then and Sylvain’s smile widened. Ingrid grinned back and together they urged their horses into a faster trot and turned to head back toward the monastery. The mood was light and Sylvain swore he was able to catch the scent of dinner wafting down from the kitchens as they rode up toward the outer gates. The guards called out an acknowledgement and Sylvain and Ingrid waved in greeting as the gates creaked open to allow them entry. But before they were even fully opened, their attention was caught by a figure hurrying towards them from the other side. 

Ingrid leaned forward in her saddle. “Is that Mercedes?” 

“Aw, did she miss us?” 

“I don’t know…Do you think something happened?” Ingrid looked back at him, all levity drained from her face and a cold fear prickled at the back of Sylvain’s neck. Ingrid’s expression hardened and with a nod they both nudged their horses on faster.

Mercedes ran forward to meet them and it was clear from her face that something was indeed wrong. Sylvain’s mind raced, barely able to hear her as adrenaline began to buzz in his ears. “Ingrid! Sylvain! There you are, thank the Goddess you’re alright.” 

Everything seemed fine. There were no signs of a conflict, and they would’ve heard it had there been an attack; Garreg Mach was quiet. But was it too quiet? “What do you mean?” 

“Annette, Felix, and Ashe were ambushed today; we were worried that you had been attacked too!” 

They were ambushed? When? Where? Where were they now? “Are they alright?” 

“Annette and Ashe are in the infirmary, but Felix…” Mercedes drew in a breath, her hands drawing up to her chest.

The fear spread down through Sylvain’s chest, freezing his lungs as he shakily dismounted, gripping the reins just to have something to steady him. “Where’s Felix?” If Annette and Ashe were in the infirmary, then where was Felix? Why wasn’t he here to tell them the news themselves? Was, was he—? “Mercedes! Where’s Felix?” He was shouting now. He was pretty sure that he was shouting

“They took him.” 

“What?” The ringing in his ears grew louder. 

Thankfully Ingrid was there. She had dismounted without Sylvain realizing and he startled as she slipped her gloved hand into his, squeezing his fingers. “Tell us everything.” 

Mercedes looked as thankful as Sylvain felt and nodded. “Follow me, please. Annette and Ashe will be able to tell you more.” 

She led them straight up to the infirmary. Ingrid kept a firm grip on his hand the whole way and he was grateful that she was able to be strong when he felt like he was shaking apart. He was happy that they were too busy climbing up flights of stairs for either Mercedes or Ingrid to check back on him. It gave him the chance to regain his senses and he felt a little less like he was going to pass out when they finally made it to Manuela’s domain. 

The woman herself was in, currently sitting at Annette’s bedside, finishing wrapping a bandage around Annette’s arm. Annette looked small in the infirmary cot, pale, bruised, and worn down. On the cot beside hers, Ashe looked just as pale as Annette and almost as small, dwarfed as he was by Dedue who sat beside him. Dedue had a damp cloth in his hand and was in the middle of dabbing dried blood off of Ashe’s cheek, working with delicate determination. Still, all eyes turned on Sylvain and Ingrid as they stepped inside the room. 

On the journey up, Sylvain had found his voice again and walked up to the cots. “What happened?” The question came out louder than he’d wanted. Sharper too, given their condition. But, even so, they were here and Felix _wasn’t_ and he wanted answers. 

Dedue frowned, “Sylvain…” 

“No, it’s alright…” Ashe winced and Dedue helped him sit up, pressing a hand against his shoulders. To keep him from straining his neck, Sylvain realized. There was a bandage wrapped around his neck. “I’m sorry Sylvain, it’s all my fault…” 

“No, it’s not!” Annette shot up in her own bed. 

Manuela tutted at her sudden movement as Mercedes squeezed past Sylvain to hurry over to her other side, “Easy dear…” 

Annette shook her head but let Mercedes take her hand. “I’m okay.” She was obviously not okay, but Sylvain didn’t interrupt as she breathed deep before looking up at him and Ingrid. “A group of bandits caught us by surprise on the road back to the monastery. We were unarmed and there were so many of them. We tried but…They were going to take Ashe with them.” Ashe flinched and Dedue’s hand shifted up to squeeze his shoulder, “but Felix wouldn’t let them. So they took him instead, and knocked him out so he couldn’t keep fighting. Ashe and I, we tried to help him, but they kicked us again while we were down on the ground and we couldn’t get back up to our feet quickly enough.” Tears welled up in her eyes and she pulled her hand free of Mercedes’ to cover her face before the tears could fall. “We weren’t able to chase after them. I’m so sorry!” 

“I’m sure Felix would be happy that you’re safe now.” Sylvain spoke, but his voice sounded far away to his own ears, the words spilling automatically from his lips without thought. The cold fear had ebbed away and now he just…He felt…numb. Felix was gone. Bandits took him. 

Ingrid’s voice rang out beside him “Where’s Dimitri?” Right. Shit, they had to tell Dimitri. Unless, maybe he already knew. But then where was _he_?

Dedue answered and the worry hadn’t left his gaze. “Writing to Lord Fraldarius. He should be back shortly once he gets the letter to a messenger.”

Rodrigue? Right. Rodrigue should know. Sylvain didn’t know what he would say if he were to send a letter instead of Dimitri. _Dear Sir, despite the great kindness you’ve shown me over the years and your unexpected support when you discovered your son and I were engaged in a serious romantic relationship, I’ve lost your last remaining blood to a rag-tag group of bandits just outside the walls of Garreg Mach_ —No, no; for once, Dimitri would have a clearer head than he did. What would he write? That Felix had been taken. That they needed aid? That he had been attacked and beaten and kidnapped while Sylvain had rode around, fully armored and armed, joking with Ingrid, not more than three miles away—?

Drawing in a sharp breath through his nose, Sylvain spun on his heels and hurried from the room. He hadn’t been there to protect _any_ of them when they needed him most. Footsteps followed him out, but he barely heard them, too caught up in his own head. 

Why hadn’t he been there? Why was he so damned useless? He hadn’t been able to help Felix, or Annette or Ashe. He’d probably sent the bandits running straight to them!

Sylvain released a broken sound and punched at the wall in the monastery hall, “Damn it!” The decorative stone cracked beneath his fist and he heard a gasp. 

A second later, Mercedes was at his side. “Sylvain! Please don’t. You’ll hurt yourself!”

“I deserve it! We probably flushed those bandits out of the woods and right to them!” 

“You can’t blame yourself for this. You couldn’t have known—” 

“I know! I know but I…if I had been there…” 

Ingrid appeared at his other side, her face stern but eyes soft. “If you’d been there, you probably would’ve gotten hurt or taken too. You know that Felix put up a fight. He would’ve fought harder than any of us.” 

“I know…I’m just…” He swallowed and clenched his eyes shut as he felt a tremor run through his body. “I’m scared.” His admission was almost a whisper, but Ingrid heard and wrapped him up in a tight hug. “What if we don’t find him in time…?” 

“We will. I promise, Sylvain.” 

Without opening his eyes, Sylvain moved and hugged her back. He wanted so badly to believe her. But he believed in the conviction in her voice. He blinked his eyes open again as he felt a hesitant hand on his back, and glanced back to see Dimitri, anguish sharp in his blue eye. “We’ll get Felix back. I swear it.” 

Sylvain nodded and released Ingrid from his death grip. “Thank you.” The hope Ingrid had sparked flared in his chest. Ingrid and Dimitri, they loved Felix too, in their own ways. He knew they, and the rest of their friends, would do everything they could to help get Felix back. 

Felix came back to himself slowly, in confused bits and pieces. Was he…dreaming? Everything felt so, strange. But, no. No, this felt real. There was a dulled, throbbing pain in his head that was very real. There were strange voices in the distance, just murmurs. And he was…sitting up? 

Vertigo rolled through his stomach as Felix reoriented himself. He’d thought he might be on his back but, no, he was sitting up, on a chair. The air stank of mold and horse shit and as he forced his eyes open, he saw old hay spread out on the packed dirt floor beneath his boots. Biting back a groan, he moved to wipe a hand over his face—it felt like there was something itching on his skin, noticeable even with the pounding ache—but when he tried to reach up, he realized that his hands were bound behind the chair with rope. 

What happened? 

Right. Going to town with Annette and Ashe. The bandit attack. Trading places with Ashe. 

Felix quickly looked around, breath faltering. There were no signs of Annette or Ashe. Good. Hopefully that meant that they were still back at Garreg Mach instead of…wherever he was now. It was nowhere he recognized. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he was sure that the others had already realized he was missing. They’d come looking for him. But Felix wasn’t going to just wait around to be rescued. And without Annette or Ashe here, the only person’s safety he had to worry about was his own. Which would make this all a lot easier. 

His fuzzy thoughts had finally begun to clear, and he looked around the room with a sharper eye. It appeared to be a small barn for stabling horses, but it was empty of both horses and other men. It had been neglected, some of the boards in the ceiling had collapsed from rot, and even the chair he was on seemed partially rotted. The voices he had initially heard were coming from outside, perhaps three or four individuals talking about something he still wasn’t able to make out, but their tone was clear. They were arguing, which would work in his favor. That meant they were distracted, and they were too stupid to have anyone stay to watch him. 

Grimacing, Felix flexed his hands and tested the strength of the rope holding him. The knots were tight, but as he shifted around, he could hear the chair he was on creaking in protest. If he couldn’t break the rope, he would break the chair. Drawing in a steadying breath, Felix kicked up and topped over. 

The impact of hitting the ground knocked the air from his lungs, but he heard a satisfying _crack_ as one of the rungs on the back of the wooden chair snapped. Shifting his bound wrists back and forth, he released a vicious, victorious noise as the knot began to loosen. He winced as the ragged fresh break in the wood scratched and tore at the skin on his hands and arms but ignored the sting. The blood that welled up helped to lubricate the rope as he worked. And he needed to work fast. The voices had paused when he knocked his chair over and he was sure that someone would be coming to check on him. 

Sure enough, just as the knot fell loose, the large door on the bar creaked open and a figure stepped through, silhouetted by bright midday light outside. Nearly every muscle in his body felt as if it was cramping, but Felix moved quickly and rolled up onto his feet. His eyes caught on a dulled metallic color and he grabbed at the object, pulling a rusted pitchfork from a pile of rotting hay to his right. It would do. 

By then, the figure—a man—was on top of him, calling out for the others, but Felix was already swinging the pitchfork down. The tines caught on the man’s arm, tearing at his flesh, and his scream almost covered up the sound of the Stable door nearly coming off its hinges as it slammed back open and three more bandits flooded into the small space, armed to the teeth. Felix took it all in with a single glance and drew back into a defensive position as he steeled himself. 

He would teach them who they were dealing with. 

The sharp whistle of the kettle shrilled in the otherwise silent room and Dimitri quietly rose from his seat to fix a pot of tea. He was back a moment later, setting the pot on the table between himself, Sylvain, and Ingrid as the scent of the brewing tea gently filled the air. The tea was herbal. Caffeine free. It was better for Dimitri, and Sylvain hadn’t cared either way. After letting it steep and pouring himself a cup, he could barely taste it. He could barely swallow the food Ingrid had set in front of him. His throat felt tight, worry still choking him. 

The last 40 hours had been some of the worst of his life. 

He had gone through a lot in his life, had lost a lot, but he had never felt so entirely useless. Not being able to see Felix, not knowing where he was or if he was even still…He wanted to _do_ something, but they had no clues yet about where to even start. So, here he was, cornered into having tea with Dimitri and Ingrid after having spent the last few hours in the training room hacking angrily away at straw dummies with a practice sword, less for the sake of practice and more so that he would be able to take out his anger and fear on something that wouldn’t break from it. Well, he’d broken one of the straw dummies, but it was better than breaking someone else in the monastery instead. 

Having tea felt—it felt wrong, but Sylvain hadn’t eaten in a while, and he very well may be dehydrated, and, tucked away as they were in the advisory room on the second floor, this felt better than exposing himself to everyone’s questions and looks down in the dining hall. This time in the morning, it wasn’t likely to be overly crowded, but anyone outside his friends felt like it would be too much.

They hadn’t heard anything about where Felix had gone. Riders had been sent out after the bandits before Sylvain and Ingrid even arrived back at the monastery, but they had returned empty handed and without news. The bandits had seemingly vanished, likely hiding out in the countryside, so far in the backwoods that not even rumors could follow them. Sylvain wanted to ride out himself; he’d search every inch of the continent if he had to. But that would take time. And he wanted to—he _had_ to be here in case they received some real news.

And it was a good thing he’d stayed. 

Sylvain had managed to drink half his cup of tea when there was a firm knock on the door and Lord Fraldarius himself swept inside. Sylvain, Ingrid, and Dimitri were immediately on their feet, tea forgotten, and Dimitri strode forward to meet him. “Rodrigue. Thank you for coming so quickly. You must have received my letter.” 

Rodrigue’s expression was strained. Sylvain recognized it from when they’d received news of Glenn’s death. “I did, Your Highness, and another.” Rodrigue nodded and reached into his cloak to draw out a letter. He offered it to Dimitri, brows furrowed. “It’s a ransom note. They’re demanding 40,000 Gold for his safe return. I’d gladly pay three times that if I thought they’d deliver Felix safely back to me, but I don’t trust these dastards to keep their word.” 

Dimitri quickly unfolded the letter and skimmed through it. “Do you have another plan?” Finishing the note, he passed it to Sylvain who snatched it up, Ingrid reading over his shoulder as he devoured the words on the page. It was written on coarse paper in a coarser hand. It was just as Rodrigue said: a demand of a small fortune to a common man’s eye, to be delivered within 24 hours to a tavern in Faerghus. Otherwise Felix would be killed. 

He heard Rodrigue draw in a breath and Sylvain’s heart ached for the man. He’d already lost one son…“Felix is the only family I have left. If…if he’s still alive, I’m going to need your help to save him.” 

Dimitri nodded. “Of course. I would insist upon it.” 

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Rodrigue offered a shallow bow, though his anxiety did not lessen. He’d known that Dimitri would agree to aid him. Of course he would. “They’re asking for me to bring the gold to a meeting point half a day’s ride from here in Faerghus tonight. I had scouts look ahead, and they may have found a potential lead. They are not staying at the tavern, but their hideout may be only an hour or so farther east. Certainly near enough to arrive at the tavern early in the morning if the barkeep can be trusted. If I draw them off to the meeting point, you can circle behind their forces to their hideout in case they intend to go back on their word and Felix is left there. With the war, my men are spread too thin to be in both places at once.” 

Sylvain nodded. “We won’t let you down.” 

Rodrigue met his gaze for the first time that day and a small smile finally reached his lips, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes yet. “There’s no one I would trust more with this task.”

Rodrigue left soon after Dimitri promised their aid, and Sylvain, Ingrid, and Dimitri were racing back to their rooms to prepare before he even reached the monastery gates. As they nearly ran past the others’ rooms, they called out to the others, shouting in the dormitory halls, to be ready to leave within the hour. Annette and Ashe had been discharged from the infirmary the day before and Sylvain saw them both pop their head out. They were supposed to be taking it easy but they ducked back into their rooms to gear up just as fast as the rest of them did. 

Their entire unit—Sylvain, Dimitri, Ingrid, Dedue, Mercedes, Annette, and Ashe—were ready within 20 minutes. Ingrid and Sylvain rode out on horseback but had to slow to the pace of the others who marched out on foot. Sylvain had been worried that Annette and Ashe wouldn’t be able to keep up but they had either taken an unadvised amount of vulneraries or they were running on sheer force of will. Judging by their twin looks of pure determination, maybe both. They marched out from the monastery near min-morning, north toward Faerghus. 

It was difficult traveling anywhere without being recognized so—not wanting to scare off the bandits from moving ahead with their deal with Rodrigue—they kept to the less-often used roads and forest paths. Traveling without any additional guards or knights, they were able to slip through without as much notice. Dimitri called for a rest only once in the early afternoon. If Rodrigue’s suspicions were correct, they would be nearing the bandits’ hideout within another few hours and they needed to eat and hydrate before any potential battle. Rodrigue had given Dimitri a map with the area his scouts suspected the bandits’ hideaway to be circled in red, and their whole team circled around it as they ate to discuss their battle plan.

There were many unknowns, but, assuming they were able to find them, things could go a variety of different ways, the two extremes being that no one would be home or all 25 or so men could be there waiting. Ashe and Annette had both confirmed the size of the bandit group, and, while they might be outnumbered, Sylvain wasn’t concerned about their chances. Their team was trained. They would be better equipped. And they were far more motivated. Sylvain felt ready to fight the Goddess herself if it came to it; he would force his way though no matter how many men they threw at him if it meant getting to Felix. Having the others there almost felt unnecessary, but he wasn’t stupid enough to truly think he wouldn’t need their help. 

They continued on and walked for another hour, and then another, along an ill-used road seeing nothing but trees and the occasional field or creek with no signs of recent human habitation. But just when Sylvain was becoming certain that Rodrigue’s men had made a mistake, they rounded a bend in the road and the woods opened up to reveal a small homestead. It looked like no one had lived there in years, the wooden structures that looked to form a main house and a stable falling apart where they stood. It looked more likely to be occupied by ghosts rather than anything living but, no—Dimitri motioned for them to be quiet then pointed to the stable. There were two men—living men—standing in front of the door to the building, as if they were guarding it. They weren’t dressed as guards though, but instead wearing the type of garbs Ashe and Annette had both described the bandits wearing. And there was one likely reason why they would bother to guard a stable door. Something, or someone, important was being kept inside it. 

A plan was quickly set. Though there weren’t any indications the rest of the bandits were there, they couldn’t be sure of that. Sylvain, Dimitri, Dedue, Mercedes, and Ashe would storm the stable, while Annette and Ingrid would do a sweep of the rest of the property, Ingrid by air and Annette on foot. 

Sylvain didn’t waste any more time. Urging his horse forward and with Dimitri and Dedue close behind him, he grabbed his lance and charged. As he burst into the clearing, the guards jumped to attention, swearing as they scramble for their own weapons. But by the time they’d drawn their swords, Sylvain was already on them. “Move aside!” They didn’t heed the warning and he thrust his lance down, straight through one of the man’s chest. 

Dimitri was racing toward the other, sword at the ready, but before he could get there an arrow whistled by, landing with a dull _thunk_ right between the second guard’s eyes, killing him instantly. Sylvain and Dimitri both turned to see Ashe grimly lowering his bow, Dedue standing stoically beside him with his war hammer resting at the ready up on his shoulder. 

Releasing a breath, Sylvain dismounted and nodded at Dimitri. The stable door was locked with a heavy padlock but Dimitri barely gave it a second look before ramming the door hard with his shoulder. It nearly shattered under the blow, several of the wooden boards splintering, and Sylvain slipped through. Inside, the stable was lit only by what sunlight managed to pierce through the holes and slats between the rotted boards of the roof. The air felt damp and smelled like musty horse shit and rot. 

Sylvain blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the light, and he had taken several steps in before he made out a form hanging on the far wall of the stables. “Felix!” He looked strange, and as Sylvain sprinted over, he realized why. “He’s chained up!” He had shouted the words back over his shoulder, but his eyes never left Felix. His arms were pulled up over his head and he was hanging upright against the back wall of the stable, just barely able to stand with his feet flat against the floor. His head was hanging limp, his chin resting against his chest, and when Sylvain reached him, he was almost afraid to touch him. Underneath the grime and dried blood, his skin was frighteningly pale. “Shit, Felix, what did they do to you…?” 

He received no response. Cursing again, Sylvain reached up but the chains were locked tight together, wrapped in tight coils around Felix’s wrist and then latched up to metal hooks on the wall. “The chains won’t budge.” 

By then, Dimitri was at his side, Dedue, Ashe, and Mercedes on his other, and Dimitri stepped forward, his visible eye narrowed. “Allow me.” Sylvain made space for him and then wrapped his arms around Felix to keep him upright as Dimitri reached over him and grabbed the chains. With a grunt and sharp tug, two of the chain links snapped and the whole chain slithered loose. At the same time, Felix pitched forward and Sylvain readjusted his stance to take his weight. 

The sudden movement also seemed to shake Felix back into consciousness and let out a weak groan as he collapsed into Sylvain’s arms. Sylvain released a breath he’d been holding, worried that they’d arrived too late, and freed a hand to smooth it down Felix’s cheek. His skin was cold, but he was definitely, incredibly, alive. At the touch, Felix’s glazed eyes snapped open and he thrashed in Sylvain’s arms, forcing him to lower them both to the ground for fear of dropping the other. “Felix! Hey, babe, it’s me! Look at me. It’s just me.” 

His words caused Felix to pause and Sylvain smiled down at him as his eyes began to clear. Goddess, he had never been so happy to see those eyes. “Syl…?” 

“Yeah, I’m here. We’re all here. You’re going to be alright.” Reaching back over, he pushed Felix’s hair back out of his face and he knew by Ashe’s sharp intake of breath that they all saw the dried blood caked at his hairline, a black eye, a dark bruise on his cheek, and a cracked lip. 

Dimitri growled low. “Whoever did this will pay dearly. I’ll bleed them dry!”

Sylvain could relate but the last thing they needed right now was for Dimitri to lose his grip on reality again when he had just gotten it back. “Easy!” He looked over his shoulder again and saw that crazed look threatening to shadow Dimitri’s face. “Dedue, get Dimitri out of here.” Felix always hated when Dimitri lost control and he didn’t need to be strained any more than he was. 

Dimitri didn’t protest as Dedue silently guided him from the stable and Felix barked out a hoarse, mirthless laugh when they reached the door. “I’ve already done part of the job for him…” 

“What?” 

Felix motioned weakly down at his clothes. “Not all this blood is my own.” His gaze flickered to his right and, following his eyes, Sylvain realized that less than 10 feet away there were three corpses heaped on top of a pile of molded hay. There were vicious-looking gouges and puncture wounds covering their bodies and faces and he might have been a little disgusted had he not been so vindictively pleased. 

“They deserved it. And I’m sure Rodrigue is mopping up the rest as we speak.” As he spoke, Sylvain unwound the remaining chain from around Felix’s wrists, massaging the bruises he saw there before it was too much and he gave in and pulled Felix into a tight embrace. 

“Sylvain, what—?” 

“Let me hold you, just for a minute.” Felix remained tense for just another second before allowing himself to relax against him and Sylvain head a breath and pulled him closer. “I thought I’d lost you.”

He felt a short puff of air against his neck. A laugh, of sorts. “You can’t get rid of me so easily…” 

The others had been waiting, Sylvain realized, giving them a private moment, but at Felix’s weak laugh, Mercedes stepped forward, and pressed a comforting hand against his back. “Felix, we need to get you back to the monastery for proper care. Are you able to stand?” 

Felix winced and tried to lift himself from Sylvain’s arms, but his muscles weren’t able to support his weight. Seeing that he was about to collapse again, Mercedes urged him to sit back down beside Sylvain. Ashe popped in and dug into the bag he had slung across his back. Even Sylvain didn’t know what he was after until he pulled out a canteen and a meat pie wrapped in waxed paper. “Here, please. I made it fresh this morning.” Hunger sparked in Felix’s eyes and Sylvain felt angry all over again at the thought that they hadn’t fed him in nearly two days. The way he guzzled down the water in the canteen indicated they hadn’t given him anything to drink either and Sylvain tried to distract himself from his building temper by unwrapping the meat pie for Felix. Felix’s enthusiasm for both the water and food cut Ashe deeply as well. His brow knit and he swallowed. “Felix, I, I’m so sorry, I—” 

Felix paused mid-bite and met Ashe’s gaze. “Are you okay?” 

“Y-yes, but you—” 

“Then it’s fine. You have nothing to apologize for.” 

He ate the rest of his small meal quickly. Sylvain wished he’d thought to pack something more, but it probably wouldn’t be good for Felix to eat too much all at once anyway. It was no wonder he was so weak though; with his wounds in combination with the neglect, it was amazing he was conscious at all. And the food and water had helped even more. He already seemed more alert and there was a bit more color to his cheeks. Mercedes nodded happily. “A few vulneraries and days of rest, and I’m sure you’ll be back to your normal self in no time.” Felix nodded and tried to push himself back up to his feet and she and Sylvain both reached out to steady him at the same time. “Careful. It may take a day or two for you to regain your strength enough to move around on your own.” 

Felix grunted out an annoyed sound and Sylvain grinned. “Good thing I’m here then, huh?” Sylvain would happily be his strength until he got his back. 

As Sylvain began to gather him back up in his arms, Felix eyed Sylvain dubiously. “Maybe you should go get Dedue or Dimitri, if the boar hasn’t gone completely insane.” 

“What,” Sylvain shifted to make it easier to stand, “you don’t trust me?” 

“I’m not that light.” 

It was true. Felix was more slender than Sylvain, and a good few centimeters shorter, but he was nearly all compact muscle. Even if he’d lost a few pounds from being nearly starved, Sylvain had to admit that it would be a strain. But, “With the power of love, anything is possible! Come on.” 

“Wait—!” 

Sylvain groaned as he rose to his feet with Felix balanced in his arms as the other squirmed. “Goddess, you weren’t kidding. This isn’t going to be easy, but I can at least get you to my horse.” 

Felix reluctantly wrapped his arms around Sylvain’s neck to better his balance. “What happened to the power of love?”

Sylvain snorted out a strained laugh as he made his way out of the stable. “You try carrying a full-grown man bridal style, then you earn the right to tease me.” 

The others must have cleared the rest of the property because Ingrid was waiting outside and caught their exchange, grinning despite herself as Annette led Sylvain’s horse over to them. “How are you two already arguing?” There was a fondness in her voice that proved she was just as relieved as Sylvain to see that Felix was still alive and well enough to complain. 

Still, Sylvain scoffed as he hefted Felix up into his saddle. “I was trying to be concerned but Felix won’t stand for it.” 

Mercedes giggled as she came up behind him. “I think it’s sweet. And it lets me know that Felix will be okay. But we really ought to get him back to the monastery.”

She didn’t need to say so again. Sylvain knew it was true by the way Felix slumped forward in the saddle. Annette steadied his horse as Sylvain swung himself up onto the saddle behind his lover, then pulled him back to rest against his chest. Felix grunted in annoyance and Sylvain smiled before pressing a quick kiss to his temple. “Rest if you want to. I’ll keep you safe until we get back.”

A flush flooded Felix’s cheeks and he thumped his elbow back against the armor covering Sylvain’s stomach. “I’ll be fine. Just keep your attention on the road.”

“That’ll be hard when you’re so much better to look at, but I’ll do my best.”

Felix huffed but, after a beat, leaned more of his weight back against Sylvain and Sylvain’s smile softened, reaching to wrap one hand around Felix’s waist and reaching out with his other to take up his horse’s reins. 

The ride back to Garreg Mach was done in much higher spirits than the ride out. Felix quickly succumbed to his exhaustion so everyone stayed quiet as they traveled back toward the monastery, but there were smiles on everyone’s faces, even as they stayed alert just in case any bandits who escaped Rodrigue’s wrath happened to retreat back to their hideout. None did. Sylvain doubted Rodrigue had let any slip away. The man could be kind, but he was fiercely protective of those he cared for, and he cared for no one so much as his son—despite what Felix might think.

They arrived back at Garreg Mach well after dark and Felix wasn’t the only one who was exhausted. Still, no one retired back to their room until Manuela had been roused and they had all as a group seen Felix tucked away into an infirmary cot. Sylvain lingered longer than the rest of them, waiting until everyone else was gone before moving closer to the cot and taking Feilx’s hand in his. 

Now that there was no one left to see, Felix allowed the gesture and gently squeezed Sylvain’s fingers in return. Quiet settled over them and despite how tired Sylvain was, he didn’t want to go to sleep. He didn’t want to leave Felix now that he had just gotten him back. So he offered Felix a sleepy smile instead and smoothed his thumb over the back of Felix’s hand. “We’ve got to stop ending up like this…” 

It was hard not to think of that time so many months ago when their positions had been reversed, with it had been Sylvain lying nearly broken in the infirmary cot while Felix hovered anxiously over him. He didn’t know how Felix had been able to stand it as well as he had. At least Sylvain knew that now Felix would be alright. He was still dehydrated and bruised and it would take several additional days for him to get his strength back, but he wasn’t in any danger any more and was sure to get better. 

He could tell Felix was remembering exactly the same moment as he sighed. “I can’t promise it will be the last time.” 

“Yeah…” Knowing the both of them and what dangers lay ahead, it wouldn’t be. The thought made Sylvain’s stomach twist up but he couldn’t think of anything to say against it. Neither of them could stop what they were doing; neither of them would be willing to stop fighting for what they believed in. That was one of the reasons he loved Felix as much as he did. “I love you, you know that?” 

A smile flickered onto Felix’s lips. “I know.” 

“But, do you really? Felix…” Sylvain squeezed his hand then leaned closer and pushed his hair back away from his face. Felix leaned into his touch and his heart just about burst from how much he loved the man in front of him. “I almost lost my mind when they told me you’d been taken. I thought they were going to kill you. And I just…” Sylvain shook his head. “Do you remember that promise we made when we were kids?”

“Which one?” 

Sylvain swallowed. “That we would die together. Let’s make that promise again. You can’t die without me, Felix.” 

Felix blinked at him, studying him for a moment, before his small smile returned. “The same is true for you then.” 

Sylvain nodded, a strange laugh bursting from him and he smiled back. “I promise that I won’t die without you either. And, until that day does come, I promise that I’ll live each day of my life for you.”

“You almost sound like you’re proposing.” 

“And if I am?” Felix’s eyes widened. Sylvain was. That’s what he was doing. He wanted Felix to be by his side forever. Words spilled past his lips and he leaned their foreheads together. “I don’t want to die without you, and I don’t want to live a single day without you, either.” 

Maybe he should feel more nervous but he knew—he _knew_ —that Felix would accept him. Without missing a beat, Felix proved him right and wrapped his free hand around Sylvain’s neck, pulling him closer yet to press a kiss against his lips. “I feel the same.” 

“Good.” 

“…But you’re going to propose properly to me when I’m able to leave the Infirmary.” 

Sylvain laughed again and nodded again before stealing another kiss. “You got it.”

“…Don’t make me regret asking that of you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love.”


End file.
